


Don't ask don't tell

by TyrantTirade



Series: MCU kink bingo [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Cages, Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Fantasizing, Humiliation, Implied modern au, Kidnapping, M/M, Masturbation, Rape Fantasy, Rape Roleplay, Sadism, Spit As Lube, Spit Kink, Top Steve Rogers, idek honestly, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 18:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrantTirade/pseuds/TyrantTirade
Summary: In the cage he is nothing. He's imprisoned in a place too small that somehow fits just right.





	Don't ask don't tell

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, read the tags please. The rape is in fantasy form, but it's still graphically described. Theres also a bit of a dubcon aspect on Steve's part since he's not actually aware of Bucky's thoughts. So yeah just be aware of the tags. Also, didn't tag fisting because it isnt technically fisting but i think my description of the fingering definitely nears on or at least implies the possibility of fisting.
> 
> Also, this was thrown together really hastily and it doesn't make much sense and it's a little bit sloppy. No beta or anything. The plot is shoddy. So ya know all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> This covers the bingo squares Cages, Rape Fantasy, and Abasement.

Ya know, sometimes he just can't control it. It's like one second he's brushing his teeth and the next he's laying into his bed, pulling his drawers down so they're just under his ass. Just enough for his dick to slide free, stiff and tight against his belly. And- well he's not even sure what pushed him to it, to just needing to fucking fuck something. his hand or something. But here he is, beating off like a loser.

He needs a good lay, he thinks. It's been too long.

But for now hes got a head and a couple hands and as much as it sucks, that's all he's got to work with. 

For what it counts though, his fantasies are nice. He has them all stockpiled in his brain.

Theres the jungle one, sort of like Tarzan but with dicks out. The slave one, that one's good. The one that takes place in the busy halls of his work.

And the cage one.

He especially likes the cage one. 

Because...God, his stomach twists up- in the cage he is nothing. He's imprisoned in a place too small that somehow fits just right. 

The cage would be tight. Real real small. He can almost feel the tightness of it as he squeezes his dick in his palm and gives it a tug.

So small that he could barely fit. Smashed in like a contortionist in a suitcase. So small his ribcage could barely expand to pull in air.

But Steve, the one that put him in the cage- his favorite thought. His go to masterbatory fantasy- wouldn't really care about that.

Well...maybe real Steve would. Real Steve's soft and caring and despite how big he is he's a teddy bear- harmless. But he likes to think that maybe this Steve wouldn't care. That all he is when he's in the cage is an object to this Steve.

Bucky breaths in deeply, stroking his dick slow and dry, planning it all out in his mind--

Steve walks in, boots thunking against the cement, tsking as Bucky whimpers and whines to be let free. But he's Steve's now, he's Steve's to keep and do with as he pleases. He can say no all he wants but he's at Steve's mercy now.

He can't speak anyway though, like a dog. All he can do is make noises until he can't anymore. Maybe his voice gives out.

The cage is unreasonably tiny he thinks, too tight, it makes it hard for him to make noise at all. 

“I don't care what you want.” Steve murmurs, kicking a dish of kibble over for Bucky to eat. Bucky has to really stretch his neck to get to it. Eventually settling on eating the pieces that have spilled out onto the dirty floor. He hasn't eaten in he's not sure how long, his skin feels too tight around his bones.

It's muggy in the room, dank, lights dull like a cavern, a basement maybe, a dungeon, a tunnel, something. The walls are all cement and there's nothing but A metal door and some rusted hanging lights, and there in the middle of the floor is his cage. His rectangular little bird cage that he'll never fly free from.

Steve paces around the cage, examining Bucky closely. So close that he can just almost feel it. That sends an unexpected shiver through his spine, making him cringe and panic with the realization of being examined like that. Like a mangy stray dog, clinical. Like he's a prisoner up for inspection. It's just a chore to Steve, it's his task to inspect Bucky's disgusting body. 

No wonder he's been locked up, he thinks. It's better to keep filth like him out of the world.

With how tight the cage is he can't really move, can't adjust or hide himself. He's on his knees and elbows, folded in on himself with his head to the side and well- that position has him more vulnerable than anything. He can feel everything that he's supposed to hide open, ready to be seen. 

Wanting to move his legs, he tries to shift, maybe move just enough to adjust so his cock and balls aren't showing behind him. Hanging out soft and pathetic because his thighs are just squished too tight together for them to be anywhere else. But his attempts are in vain, legs too tightly bound to do much at all

He wonders if Steve's disgusted, if he's looking at it and snarling his lip like he’s pissed off that he has to see Bucky's small, limp little dick out and his ass spread enough to show his disgusting hole. He considers that Steve might look at it and know what he is, what he likes. 

A small piece of him hopes so.

Steve paces behind him, out of sight. All Bucky can hear is the thump of his feet and sound of his bdu’s rustling, until he hears nothing at all. Silence. Just that lurching feeling of being watched.

Steve's voice, suddenly, comes from much closer than he expects, right above him, “You like this don't you?” Steve asks.

Bucky feels himself jerk, afraid. He tries to move his arms, tries to make a sound, say no. But he can't. No- no, he thinks. Feeling like a liar. Like all he'll ever be is a goddamn liar.

“Yeah,” Steve breaths “you love it,” Before throwing his boot out and kicking the cage, jarring Bucky painfully in it. His ribs beat into a bar and it hurts, it's too tight.

“Mutts like you are meant to be locked up in a cage like this. You're mine now boy.” he says, raising his voice again as he adds with grit, “You disgusting fucking pig.”

Shamefully, that pushes an unwanted sound out of Bucky, a whimper or something. He wants to say no. Wants to kick and scream his way out. He wants to move, to claw his nails into the cement and escape and run away- but. But even if he could, he wouldn't, he thinks. He can cry or say no but Steve will always be right. 

Just a disgusting fucking pig.

Suddenly he hears Steve make a hocking sound. He knows why, he knows exactly why. That makes him tense in anticipation still though. Steve snarls disgustedly and Bucky feels it hit him. A wad of spit right at the center of his back. The wetness of it runs down his side. 

He thinks, maybe Steve can use him as his spit can now. But no, no he isn't supposed to think that. He squirms forcing himself to want to get away.

Steve chuckles darkly, muttering, “Fucking nasty cunt,” as he walks back around to kneel beside the cage. 

Bucky tries to look away, he really does but the cage is too tight to even tilt his head around his arms. So he shuts his eyes tight. Like maybe doing so will block it out, will stop his dick from getting hard. Humiliating.

“Open your eyes piggy,” Steve says, flicking the cage. Like a child at the zoo trying to piss off the monkey's. 

No, no, he can't, he won't. He refuses, keeping his eyes tight.

Steve suddenly, loudly, beats the cage heavily, clanking the metal, “Open your goddamn eyes, whore.”

Bucky shakes his head, cowering as the cage shakes, jostling him around. 

Whore... yeah that's a good name for him. That just makes him humiliatingly harder. 

No.

Steve growls through gritted teeth, “Open your fucking eyes or i'll dump this cage in my septic tank and let you drown in my shit.”

That convinces Bucky to comply, forcing himself to look as he breathes heavily, skin sticky with sweat and humidity and fear.

His eyes adjust and there Steve's face is, pretty. Dirty and pretty and everything that Bucky shouldn't want. But god, jesus christ, he wants it so fucking bad. Wants to beg for Steve to step on him, to crush him, spit on him more. Tell him what a whore he is. 

No- he lurches.

“Good pig,” Steve murmurs, too soft yet somehow just as fucked up as everything else that he's said. Tinted in disgust.

Bucky imagines himself rolling in the mud.

“I've never had my own little showpig,” Steve starts, “I can do anything I want with you, can't i?” 

Yes.

It's a question that Bucky knows not to answer, snarling like a vicious dog. Yes. No, no, he's supposed to say no.

“Yeah,” Steve knows, “anything I want and you can't do a fucking thing about it.” 

He reaches his hand, sideways through a bar. The bars are just wide enough for it to fit through. His hand gets in about halfway up his tricep, just enough for him to twist it and grab at Bucky's face, squeezing his cheeks in his palm.

“You're mine now.” 

Bucky feels the most pathetic, bitch sound curl out of him and he shuts his eyes. Listening as Steve chuckles like it's funny. Maybe he thinks it's cute how desperate Bucky is. Maybe he thinks its funny that he managed to find a willing prisoner. Maybe it's funny to him because he thinks Bucky's pathetic too. 

Bucky squeezes his eyes and feels as more spit lands on his face, falling down his cheek before getting rubbed in by Steve's hands. Wet fingers squeeze his face and he's embarrassed, humiliated. He feels his throat get tight and heavy, tries to force himself not to cry. 

Steve let's go quickly, pulling his hand free as he moves behind the cage again. “Since you're mine, I can do anything I want.“ 

Anything.

Bucky opens his eyes, it's too dark in the room to see even Steve’s silhouette so he feels blind. Looks at a trail of dirty water run down a wall of the room like a leak in the concrete. The room is so empty it's like a scene from a nightmare. 

But Bucky's always slept well after a horror movie. 

“Disgusting,” Steve grunts from behind him and then there's more spit. But this time it's not the same, it makes him tense and sigh as he feels the slick of it trail down his ass, right over his hole.

And now he feels even more exposed. He feels Steve's eyes dig into him, right at everything and he wants to hide so bad. He feels dirty, thinks that Steve's right, he is disgusting.

He hears Steve drop down behind him. Then feels a hand slide through the cage, resting on the swell of his ass. “You can say no as much as you want,” he starts, rubbing a few fingers down the curve of Bucky's taint dryly.

Bucky feels himself involuntarily clench. He couldn't say no if he tried, if he even wanted to that is.

But- no, no, no. Stop touching me, he's supposed to say. Get your hands off of me. He's not supposed to like it. 

But as Steve's fingers insistently graze over his hole and rest there, that thought gets washed away.

His mouth drops as more fingers than he thinks he can physically take like this, without slick, start to push in, twisting and nudging until he's stretched open by them and fucking drooling like a rabid dog into the cage. Being held open by Steve's fingers.

“You see that piggy?” Steve asks rhetorically, “Just slid right into that nasty whore cunt of yours.” He moves his fingers just slightly, wiggling them like Bucky's insides are just putty to him. Another worthless part. 

“You are disgusting. Used up garbage. That's what you are isn't it?”

God, Bucky wants to cry. The overwhelming feeling of his ass stuffed makes his eyes feel heavy and his mouth slack. He licks at his dry lips in attempt to focus but ends up biting into the flesh of it as Steve gives his fingers a careless twist, spitting into his hand. 

“My ugly little mutt. I'll have you trained soon,” Steve says, fucking his fingers in this time. 

Bucky gasps, not able to keep it in as Steve just gets to fucking him with his fingers. Curling in and out and it seems like it's just the leadup. Like he's just fucking him to get him all loose and pliant. 

“Sloppy cunt,” Steve growls, spitting on his hand again. 

He tries to move, shift forward or something because he can't take it- it's too much. It's too good. No. Fuck.

He moves his ass up, clenches tight, hoping he'll stray away enough for Steves fingers to yank out of him but all it does is get them moving more, following him, still pressed insistently into him. 

He wishes he could speak, yell and scream and say, stop, please stop. Or maybe even more, deeper. He's ashamed but he just wants them deeper. To stretch him and destroy him and push in so far and wide that he's unusable.

But he can't. All he can manage to do is grunt and heave out broken whines as Steve forces his pinkie into his ass too, pulling him open until he's nearly sobbing, resisting the need to fuck back on the majority of Steves hand in him.

His face presses harshly into the bars of the cage, mouth squished and drooling as he's forced to take what Steve gives him. Steve's fingers shoving in and curling and relentlessly pressing on that spot and it gets a cry out of him. His own hands scramble to hold onto the bar and it's so much, it's too much. He can't move, can't speak, can't stop it. All he can do is take it, take all of it until Steve's happy. 

“Yeah, i knew the little bitch would just love having my hand in his cunt,” Steve says to himself as he keeps at twisting his hand, curling and fucking his fingers in up past the knuckle and- God- Bucky's stomach twists up viciously thinking that- Fuck- he likes it. He likes it so fucking much. Steve makes him feel so fucking nice, he thinks. Steve's right, he's always right.

And then the door knocks.

Fuck.

His eyes shoot open, hand on his dick, stopping mid tug. He's so fucking hard and ready and completely in sex head that he lags behind, looking around the room in confusion. Fuck. 

“Buck, you alright?” Steve asks, muffled through the door. 

God-fucking-dammit. Bucky finally manages to yank his hand off his dick, hard-on dying faster than he thinks it ever has before as he scrambles to think straight. Shame beating at his chest.

“I’m-” he starts, tugging his quickly dying dick back in his drawers “I'm fine Steve,” he manages, voice a little jagged but he tries his best, scrubbing a palm, the clean one, over his face.

Steve pauses, “Um- okay, hurry it up though, we gotta get going in thirty minutes.” by the time he finishes his sentence Bucky's twisting his doorknob open. 

Fucking hell, he forgot, of course he forgot. 

Tonight is football night at Sam's house…

Steve's actual Boyfriends house. 

Because all Bucky is, is his roommate. 

That shame just hits harder seeing Steve's face as he opens the door. He feels himself get warm, overwhelmed with embarrassment, as he says “I'm ready when you are.” Because if Steve knew the thoughts he has about him he would be disgusted. 

Because Steve has a fucking boyfriend, and Steve's not a rapist. 

And to make matters worse, Steve's oblivious to Bucky's through the roof fucking boner for him that he's had since they met in college. 

It's not that he's ashamed of his massive thing for Steve or that he's not out to Steve. He's been out to Steve. It's just, Steve's been with Sam since they met, they're soulmates or some shit and Bucky isn't out to fuck that up. 

So he chooses to just live miserably as Steve's roommate and fantasize about Steve fucking him on a nightly basis. 

Because what Steve doesn't know won't hurt him.

**Author's Note:**

> Per usual, comments and kudos are appreciated. 
> 
> Here's my [Tumblr](http://www.tyranttirade.tumblr.com)


End file.
